Baby Steps
by caffinate-me
Summary: AU. Based on prompt from Tumblr- Castle is Beckett's physical therapist. When he had read "stabbed in the back", he had imagined a punk of a kid who had gotten on the wrong side of the law, not a gorgeous young woman from a well off family sporting a Stanford sweatshirt. A story in three parts.
1. Chapter 1

Baby Steps

Richard Castle paused to take a deep breath before pushing open the door to call back his next patient. He had read her chart, had heard the rumors and grumbling of the other physical therapists in the office. Three therapists in as many weeks. The girl wasn't even out of her teens and she had already managed to alienate over half the staff. And by being a recent graduate and one of the newest additions to the office, he was the last resort before informing her she needed go elsewhere.

With one final shake of his shoulders he pushed open the door and called out her name, a smile pressed to his face.

"Katherine Beckett?"

The motion to his right caught his attention, and he turned to face her while she struggled up out of her seat, shrugging off the helpful hands of the older man with her.

"I got it," hissed from her lips, and the man sank back with a sigh.

"I have an errand to run but I'll be back to pick you up in an hour, Katie."

"Fine."

Castle stayed silent, the older man regarding her with dejected eyes as she struggled across the small waiting room, a crutch on either arm. Her hands clutched the small bars with white knuckles.

"Hi, Ms. Beckett, I'm Richard Castle, I'll be taking over for Shelly Campbell as your PT." He introduced himself with a kind smile.

She wasn't what he had expected. When he had read "stabbed in the back", he had imagined a punk of a kid who had gotten on the wrong side of the law, not a gorgeous young woman from a well off family sporting a Stanford sweatshirt. But what struck him the most was the emptiness he saw when her eyes met his, the wall erected to deflect any emotion.

She sized him up for a moment before letting out a puff of air, defensiveness oozing from every pore. "Another one bites the dust, huh? She didn't even last the hour."

He refused to let his smile fall. He wasn't going to play into her game, whatever her end goal of alienation was. "Well let's see if I fare a little better, shall we?"

"Yeah, _we_ shall."

"Was that your dad?" He asked as he followed her slowly down the hall to the workout room.

"What's it to you?"

"Just trying to get to know you a little bit, we'll be spending a lot of time together over the next few months."

"We'll see."

Castle watched, sending out the occasional affirmation as Kate walked the length of the room, hands gripping the two metal bars to steady herself. Her Stanford hoodie had been stripped away in favor of a plain black tank top, sweat dripping down her temple, soaking her hair, staining her shirt at the small of her back. This was the final challenge of the day, and after the resistance training and leg lifts he was amazed she could still walk at all.

It wasn't her work ethic that had had scared away her three previous trainers, that was for sure.

He trailed behind her as they made their way back to the waiting room, observing how a couple of the assistants glowered at his patient as they walked past. Kate kept her eyes forward but the clench of her jaw told him she saw.

He started chatting amicably as they neared the door, a smile pasted to his face, but it was far from a facade. She wasn't easy, she wasn't bright and cheery, but it took more than a few frowns to make him back down. He had seen the pain in her eyes when she cursed him out for trying to help her. The "I can do it, leave me the fuck alone," was nothing more than her grasping for control over the body which was suddenly failing her.

"Good work today. Remember to do your exercises and I'll see you Wednesday," he stated, holding the door open for her.

Her lips tilted up in what could be mistaken for a smile as she hobbled through the doorway. She paused when they came face to face with the same man from before standing in wait with a wheelchair.

"Hey, Katie, how did it go?"

Kate stiffened when she neared him before sinking silently down into the chair, her expression solemn.

"She did great," Castle replied when she stayed silently slumped in her seat, crutches across her lap. "Rick Castle."

Castle stepped forward, holding his hand out.

"Jim Beckett, I'm Katie's father."

Castle cleared his throat as the smell of whiskey wafted under his nose. Glancing down to his patient he noted the stiffness in her shoulders, the way she was looking anywhere but at them.

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Beckett. I'll see you back here in a couple days. Drive safely."

Her eyes connected to his at the last statement and he knew that she knew.

Once they had disappeared through the door and to the bustling street, he rounded the counter to perch on the edge of the admissions desk, giving the intake clerk his most winning smile. "Hi, Denise."

"Hey, Rick. How's the office's hottest PT doing today?"

"You mean most ruggedly handsome PT, right?"

Denise laughed as she took the chart from his hand. "I see you got stuck with our favorite patient."

"Eh, she's not so bad."

"Not yet maybe." Denise snorted. "She made Carrie cry last week."

Castle hummed contemplatively as he stared at the now closed door. "What's her story anyway, this problem patient?"

"Sad really. Was walking to dinner with her mom, some gang banger jumps out from the shadows and stabs them both. Left them for dead."

Castle swallowed down the lump in his throat, dreading the answer to his next question. "And the mom?"

"Didn't make it."

* * *

"So Stanford? Do you go there?" Castle questioned the next week as Kate pressed her legs out, the light resistance of the weight causing her teeth to sink into her lower lip, sweat beading at her brow.

"Did."

"You're not going back?"

"What is this, 20 questions?" She snapped back.

Castle shrugged as he leaned against the front of the machine, arms folded in front of him, letting the defensive response roll off of him. "Just trying to make conversation, get to know you a little."

"Fine," she grunted as her legs pushed out once again. "But you ask a question, I get to ask one back."

"Deal." He smiled as he offered an arm, letting her pull herself up, leaning on him as he led her to the mat to help her stretch out her legs and back. "So?"

"Not going back."

"What are you going to do instead?"

"Nope. My turn." Kate replied as he hooked an elbow under her knee, drawing it up across her torso. "How'd you get lucky enough to end up with me?"

"Drew the short straw."

He instantly regretted the answer, the stunned look staring back at him. But then she snorted out a laugh, her lips quirking up.

"Fair enough."

"Oh look, a smile. I didn't think it was possible."

"Fuck you." She shot back even as the grin grew, smiling cutely around the lip once again drawn between her teeth.

"You wish."

Her cheeks flamed red, eyes flickering to his bicep before looking away, focusing on a spot over his shoulder.

"So," Castle cleared his throat. "Back to my question. What are you going to do now?"

"Gonna be a cop. Catch the son of a bitch who did this."

Castle gave a silent nod as he stood, holding out his hands to help haul her up off the floor. They had a goal.

He silently followed down the hall once again, her limbs trembling, the crutches creaked with every slow step. Both of them paused when her sweatshirt slid from where it had been slung over her forearm. She looked up at him expectantly and he merely quirked an eyebrow, his hand coming up to stop an aid who was hurrying over to help.

"Cops pick up their own sweatshirts, Beckett."

She only gaped at him in reply.

"Anytime, Beckett. Your dad's waiting." He nodded resolutely, arms crossed over his chest. When she still failed to move, her eyes edging toward pleading, his took a half step forward, his voice lowering. "You can do it."

With a shaky breath she unhooked her right hand from her crutch, holding it out to him. He took it silently, passing it along to the aid in case he would need to act quickly. He glanced around as she squatted slowly to the ground. Half of the office was watching now.

She let out a grunt that echoed down the hall as her fingers wrapped around the material. Her breaths came in pants, eyes screwed shut as her legs worked overtime to push her back up. Swinging the sweatshirt over her shoulder she used now free hand, climbing up the crutch.

Once she was upright he made short work of placing the brace back around her wrist before sending the aid out to retrieve the wheelchair waiting with her father.

"You did it." He murmured, coming to stand next to her as she leaned back against the wall, chest heaving.

"Fuck you."

"Pretty sure we had this conversation earlier, Beckett."

"Bastard. I hate you."

"No you don't."

He steadied her as she lowered into the wheelchair, sweatshirt and crutches laid across her lap. Her father watched silently from his place behind the chair.

"See you next week Mr. Beckett, Kate."

"Asshole." Came her only reply, and Castle chuckled as Jim chastised his daughter all the way down the hall.

"I see you two are building a rapport." Denise stated as she sidled up beside him.

"Working on it."

"Be careful, Ricky."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He replied flippantly, even though he did. He definitely did.

* * *

It was a month later when they found Jim glassy eyed, swaying as he stood car keys dangling from his finger. Kate turned to him with pleading eyes, her voice low so as not to be overheard by prying ears.

"I can take care of him when we get home, but I can't drive yet."

Castle glanced at the clock, a few minutes before five, and the waiting room was thankfully vacant.

"Just give me a minute to grab my jacket."

"Thank you."

He ignored the way Denise eyed him as he walked past her to grab his belongings. "I'll be back in a few."

* * *

"He told me it should have been me."

Castle froze. The words were quiet, and he barely heard them over the murmur of the PTs and grunts of the patients. "Your dad?"

Her head hung as she stood at the beginning of the railings. Her body swayed slightly on the motionless treadmill. Her legs were stronger now, her back almost completely healed after months of grueling therapy. But the weight on her shoulders was astronomical.

"He was drunk. He didn't mean it."

She looked up at him, her eyes desperate. Trying to convince him or her with her words, he didn't know.

"He didn't mean it." He confirmed with a small compassionate smile.

She nodded as she took a deep breath and took her first steps, hands hovering above the bars, ready to catch herself if she fell.

He cheered her on as the speed increased notch by notch until she was jogging, her hands not touching the bar once. He continued to hoot and holler like an idiot, bent on making her smile as she did rep after rep on the rowing machine, but her face failed anything more than a determined grimace, mind caught up in the thoughts swirling, spiraling in her own head.

The minute hand ticked past 5 o'clock. All the other patients and therapists had filed out for the day, but Castle looked over at the punching bag in the corner thoughtfully. This was it, the last challenge, the final hurdle between her and her goal of the police academy. Of course she was still working to gain her endurance back, but that would come in time.

"Okay, Beckett, it's time."

She looked up at him curiously, cheeks stained pink, chest heaving. "I know. Hour's up."

"No, punching bag. Go."

"Really?"

He could imagine how her eyes would have lit up if it were any other day, if she hadn't been on the brink of tears for the past 45 minutes. But he would be okay with the slight perk of her voice.

"Really. Go. Before I change my mind."

He hung back as she stood in front of the bag, sizing it up before reaching out and punching it experimentally with her right fist. After a couple jabs she lifted her leg, swinging it around into the bag. Then the hits started to come faster and faster. Jab, kick, jab, kick, kick.

A hiccup in the quick puffs of breath caught his attention and he was sprinting across the room just in time to catch her as she stumbled backward, her knees buckling. He curled his elbows under her armpits as he lowered both of them to the ground, her body falling limply to his lap. It was then that he noticed the tears mixing with the sweat dripping from her brow.

"Shit, Kate, I'm sorry. You weren't ready."

"It should have been me," she sobbed, the fat tears spilling out of her eyes now, flooding her cheeks. He let out a sigh as he pulled her closer, cradling her body into his. If anyone walked in he would be fired in an instant but he didn't care. He brushed his lips against her temple, her body folding into him. "It's my fault. I was the one who insisted on taking the subway. If we had taken the car we wouldn't have been in the alley. I tried to save her. I tried to push her out of the way. It should have been me."

He wrapped his arms around her as they sat huddled in the corner, the room eerily quiet around them.

"I'm glad it wasn't you."

* * *

Prompt from Tumblr: Castle is Beckett's physical therapist.

A/N: Possibly to be continued. Thank you to KC, as always, for making my words pretty.


	2. Chapter 2

Baby Steps

Chapter 2

His heart thumped hard against his rib cage at the name on the chart staring back at him. It was almost mocking after all this time. _Beckett_, right there in front of him in block letters.

She had kissed him, her fingertips feathering across his cheek, lips soft and warm against his. He could still taste the salt of her tears, feel the hitch in her breath. He closed his eyes and saw the way her bottom lip drew between her teeth as she pulled back, the pink stain of her cheeks, the pain swirling in her half-lidded eyes.

Then she had run.

Any other day he would have been proud of the speed she gained, the lack of limp in her step. Instead he had been left sitting on the floor, legs splayed out in front of him, any words dead on his lips. He hadn't seen her since.

He had debated calling her, his fingers paused over the buttons, the dial tone droning in his ear. He had driven by her building, keys jingling as they dangled from his fingers, his feet cemented to the sidewalk. But then weeks had turned to months, and months to a year. By then it was too late, so he had moved on, until now.

Four years, and his hands were shaking as he flipped open the thin manila folder, but the name that greeted him was not the one he had expected.

_James Beckett. Age 56. Broken leg. _

Castle sighed. There was no more information, no story, just the preliminary facts. His feet were bricks as he walked to the door, the tilt of the world, and the burn of his lungs reminding him that he hadn't taken a breath. Denise's eyes were on him, in fact they hadn't left him since she had handed him the file. She didn't know, there was no way she could, he hadn't told anyone, but that knowing smirk on her face made him think that maybe she did.

He sucked in a breath as his hand gripped the knob. He was being an idiot. It had been four years. She'd forgotten all about him by now. Four years. And yet he still remembered every heart-stopping second.

His eyes scanned the chairs in the waiting room, half of them empty. The space was scattered with people, some reading books or magazines. One middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair was doing a newspaper puzzle while she waited for her son, Patrick, who was in rehab from a football injury.

"Mr. Beckett?" The name rolled off his tongue before his eyes found the man sitting slumped in the corner of the room.

He wasn't the same man Castle remembered. This man was older, far older than four years would have made him. He had a scraggly scruff of a beard across his chin and cheeks, deep shadows under his sunken eyes. His body was thinner. But Rick recognized those eyes, the same as Kate's. Too old for his age. He stood from his chair, a single cane in his hand as he hobbled across the room to where Rick was patiently waiting for him, a small hesitant smile on his face.

"Jim," he greeted when Mr. Beckett was close enough. "It's good to see you again, I wish it were under better circumstances."

"Rick. I didn't think you'd remember." Jim Beckett replied, his voice tired.

"Of course I remember." Castle continued as he turned to hold the door open for his new patient. He followed Jim slowly down the hall, the seconds ticking past until he worked up the nerve to ask his next question. "How's Kate?"

Jim chuckled, a slight twinkle in his eye as he turned to look back at Rick. "She's good. Off saving the world thanks to you."

"So, she did become a cop?" Rick questioned, unable to help himself. He needed to know. There was something about her, four years and he could still feel her all around him. Every time he looked at that punching bag, every time he sat in that corner she was with him. He should have called.

"Mmhmm." Jim hummed, Rick pointing him in the direction of the small office in the back where they would go over Jim's rehab schedule. "Been on the beat, as they say, for about a year now. Graduated from NYU, went directly into the police academy, finished at the top of her class."

"Can't say I'm surprised." Rick chuckled, but he needed to focus on the topic at hand, the haggard man in front of him. "And how are you, Jim?"

"Sober," Mr. Beckett replied as he gingerly lowered himself into the seat next to the small desk, Rick closing the door behind them. "Two months. I spent the last eight weeks in rehab while my leg healed. Hardest thing I've ever done in my life."

"What happened, Jim?" He shouldn't ask but the question was gnawing at his gut and he could see through the nervous ringing of his hands, the pick at his fingernails that the older man wanted to unburden himself as well.

"I was drunk. No…" Jim paused. "I was past drunk at my usual bar. The bartender, Tony, had to call Katie to pick me up, something that has happened way too many times over the past four years. She had to leave work to come get me so she was in her uniform when she showed up. I didn't recognize her at first, that's how far gone I was, I just thought Tony had called the cops on me, and I got belligerent."

Jim paused, lost in thought. His blunt fingernails scratching at his beard and Castle's breath caught in his chest, his heart sinking.

"I took a swing at her. I hit my own daughter, Rick. I never… I've said and done a lot of things I regret over the past four years, but I never, _never, _hurt my child, and yet I did." His words were coated in tears as he continued, eyes glued to a spot on the floor where the worn carpet met the baseboard. "I tried to run, fell down the stairs, broke my leg, hit my head.

"When I woke up the next day in the hospital my leg was in a cast and she was sitting at my bedside, her jaw black and blue. She didn't have to say anything, I just knew. This was rock bottom. If I kept going the way I was I would lose my daughter just like I lost my wife, except Katie would be my own fault. I checked myself into rehab the next day, got sober. I haven't seen her in two months. We've talked on the phone a few times but… I have a lot to apologize to my daughter for, things she should never forgive me for, but I need to apologize to you too."

"Me?" Castle startled at the statement, Jim's gaze finally lifting to meet his.

"Four years ago. You should never have seen me like that, you should never have had to drive us home that day, practically carry me up the stairs, help me into bed. I'm sorry for that and I want to thank you for taking care of Katie when I couldn't."

"I… it's…"

"Don't say 'it's no problem' or 'it's fine'. We both know it wasn't, isn't. Just thank you."

Castle nodded. "You're welcome."

* * *

It wasn't until one month later that he saw her. She was sitting in one of the hard chairs in the waiting room her hands clasped in her lap, shoulders stiff, when he and Jim walked out. She rose when she saw them, her hands hanging awkwardly at her sides, a startling juxtaposition from the stiff pull of her dark hair back into a severe bun, the crisp press of her uniform tight over the bulletproof vest, the gun holstered at her hip.

One hand came up to curl an invisible lock of hair behind her ear. She looked good, healthy, a little tired.

"Katie!" Jim stated when he saw her.

"Hey, Dad."

"Hey, baby. You're here."

"Yeah, well I got off shift early, thought maybe we could grab an early dinner at the diner."

"Early? Katie…"

Kate shrugged, pink tinting the tips of her ears, as her eyes momentarily locked with Rick's, before shifting back to her father. "Cap found out I've been staying late every night, ordered me to go home."

Jim nodded, his eyes flickering between the two of them. "Lunch sounds nice, let me just use the restroom before we leave."

"Hey, Castle," the greeting was soft, bordering on shy.

"Kate." He was proud of himself, managing to force a single word past his lips. He didn't think it would have been possible, but she was even more beautiful than she had been four years before. The teenager had given way to a young woman, her cheeks a little fuller, her eyes a little less haunted. "You look good."

She bit her lip in that same shy smile, causing his heart to flutter, and it was like no time had passed at all. "So do you."

The sound of a door opening drew both of their attention and Kate cleared her throat as her father exited the bathroom. "I, um, I have to go. It was good to see you, Rick."

"You too, Kate. I'm glad you're doing well. Stay safe out there."

"I will. You too."

He forced himself to take a step back, not exactly sure when they had drifted so close to each other, when Jim approached them. Then he was alone, watching their backs as they exited the practice side by side, disappearing into the hustle and bustle of the city.

Denise's eyes were on him when he rounded the counter to hand her the file. "So, that was an interesting scene. Something you would like to share with the class, Ricky?"

Rick shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, you don't, do you?" Castle shook his head in denial and Denise let out a sigh, pushing back in her chair as she lifted her styrofoam to-go cup to her lips, drawing out sip from her straw as she assessed him.

"Rick," She continued after a moment. "How long have we known each other?"

Castle thought back to the first time he had walked into the practice for his internship interview. "Almost seven years."

"And how long have I been calling you on your bullshit?"

He huffed out a chuckle in response to her raised eyebrow and pursed lips. Ducking his head he lifted a hand to scratch the back of his neck. "Almost seven years."

"Wrong. Over seven. I caught every exaggeration on your resume and put in a good word with the boss anyway. Against my better judgement I like you, Rick. You and your cocky ass. So, tell me, what the hell was that?" Denise motioned to the front door causing Castle to sigh as he settled back into his normal perch at the edge of the desk.

"I kissed her." The words spilled out before he could stop them.

Denise leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, eyes darting across the room to make sure none of the staff was in earshot.

"The last time I saw her four years ago. Everyone else was gone for the day, she was upset and I kissed her. The best, worst mistake I've ever made."

"And why's that?"

Castle sighed, running a hand through his hair, letting it fall to scratch at a patch of stubble he had missed that morning. "Because it was amazing, perfect, extraordinary, and I'll never know that feeling again."

Denise was silent for a moment as he reflected, the office humming around them.

"Sarah called."

Rick shook his head, forcing his mind back to the present.

"She's running late, her last parent teacher conference went long but she said she'll meet you at the bakery at six for the cake tasting."

He allowed his eyes to drift to the door for a moment longer before pushing himself off of the desk.

"Right. I should get changed."

He could feel Denise's gaze burning into his back as he wandered back to the locker room, his hands shoved in the pockets of his scrubs. It had been four years, life had moved on, so had he. It did him no good to wander the path of if only.

* * *

A/N: Thank you all for your encouragement to continue and to KC as always for the insightful edits.

For those of you who have been asking about Chasing Nirvana- I AM still working on it, chapter 10 is almost finished and should be up soon! Thank you all for your patience and kind words. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Baby Steps

Chapter 3

It had been ten years since he had seen her name on his chart, six years since he had seen her face, but his heart still thudded like a bass drum as he pushed open the door. He willed his voice not to waiver as he called out her name.

Ten _years. _And he had flashbacks as she rose from the chair, the helpful hands of her father steadying her as she waivered. She was pale, so painfully pale, her lips barely smudges of white lining her face. Her left arm was still in a sling, her right hand clinging to her father like a lifeline. Tear-filled eyes met his and those pale lips attempted a smile as she greeted him with a hoarse voice.

"Hey, Castle."

"Kate. Hi."

"It's been a while. You look good."

He huffed out a laugh. He wasn't sure about that. He was closing in on forty and it was starting to show. He had bought the practice a couple years prior when it had started to crumble under the previous owners and had breathed new life into it. But the extra hours plus a series of other looming problems had finally pushed his strained marriage to the brink.

"I'm doing okay. You've looked better."

She snorted out a laugh before groaning in regret. "You've always known how to charm a girl, Rick, but don't make me laugh."

He winced in sympathetic apology. "Sorry, here let me get you a chair."

He motioned for one of the assistants to bring him a wheelchair but she waved him off. "No, I can walk. Doc says I need to, just give me your arm."

She clung to him, as stubborn as ever, his arm woven around hers, pressed between her forearm and her side as they hobbled slowly to the back.

"Two gunshot wounds." She stated, the words coming out on a labored breath as she leaned back in the chair, sweat already beading at her forehead just from the short walk to his office. Her eyes were closed and her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. "One to my shoulder, the other to my chest. Surgeon said a millimeter to the left and I wouldn't be sitting here. Also said I have nerve damage, may never be able to hold a gun again."

He stayed silent, listening, willing his hand not to reach out for her. He wouldn't ask, even after all this time he knew better. She would tell him if and when she was ready.

"I'm sorry, Kate."

Her eyes opened at that, steel staring back at him. "I'm not."

* * *

Her hair was shorter, lighter, but when it was pulled up in a high ponytail locks still fell free and framed her face in the same way, making her look ten years younger. She pushed out a breath of air, red cheeks puffing, brow furrowed with every lift of her arm. Her fingers still wouldn't bend, so he had referred her to Antonio, the best occupational therapist he knew in town. Her range of motion was getting better but it was still far from where it needed to be, and every time he saw her he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking her what happened.

"Don't be so quiet, Castle. Tell me a story, take my mind off of the excruciating pain you're putting me through."

He couldn't help but laugh. "I'm not too great at stories, what do you want to talk about?"

She let out a feral sound, a mix between a grunt and a groan, and another bead of sweat dripped from her temple to where the puckered round wound marred her shoulder. "I don't know. Tell me about you. Married? Kids? Update me on the last ten years."

He sighed. "Was married, until about a year ago. No kids. I bought the practice a few years ago, and mostly my life revolves around running it."

"Bought the practice hmm?" A small smile played at her lips even as she winced at the pain. "I see Denise is still here to give me the stink eye every time I sign in."

Castle laughed in reply. "She's been here longer than I have and she's very good at her job, I couldn't bring myself to fire her."

"Apparently for her and me, time and distance did not make the heart grow fonder. She still hates me."

"Well, what can I say, you made quite an impression on my staff all those years ago, Beckett. You still hold the record for the number of assistants a patient has made cry."

"Oh geez. I really was a bratty kid," she lamented. "I apologize for that."

They fell silent, save for the occasional grunt and hissed curse as he worked her arm.

"I shouldn't have kissed you. You were so young; I took advantage."

His gaze jerked up to meet hers when a single note of laughter answered him.

She quirked an eyebrow; an impish grin played on her lips. "You think you're the first thirty year old guy I had kissed, Castle?"

Her expression fell, became pensive before he could even begin to form a reply. "I shouldn't have run."

"You were in pain, Kate."

She nodded, her gaze falling as the quiet settled over them once again.

"Sorry about your divorce."

Her eyes flickered to his with the statement. Rick pressed her arm out, nodding for her to hold it steady at a right angle, straight out to her side and her eyes slammed shut, her chest heaving in short pants. "We weren't right for each other, I think we both always knew it on some level. I wanted kids, she didn't, we both thought the other would change their mind. Then I started working more, and we both just realized we were happier during that time apart than when we were together. What about you? Is there a Mr. Beckett in the picture yet?"

Kate wheezed out a laugh. "No. Almost once but no."

"Can I ask what happened?"

He lowered her arm and she winced as she shrugged in response, her hand hanging limply at her side. "We were too much alike, both lived for our jobs, neither willing to compromise on that for the other. He left in pursuit of a promotion and I didn't follow."

"I'm sorry."

"We weren't right together," she stated, echoing his statement, her eyes locked with his. "When it's right you know."

His heart stuttered in his chest as his arm wrapped around her, helping her stand on her own two feet. "Yeah, you do."

* * *

It happened in the middle of her session two weeks later. They had been making progress, her range of motion increasing slightly, her fingers finally able to bend at her middle knuckle. She had just been rolling her eyes at a stupid joke he had made when a patient across the room hit the punching bag with a particularly hard kick and the whole bag quivered before crashing to the floor in a cloud of drywall and plaster. Castle was running to the patient's aid less than a second later and the entire workout room had been sent into a state of chaos. Rick looked him over, shooting out questions about where he was hurt. It was only when the patient shook his head, stating he had jumped clear of the site just in time when Rick realized the screaming he had been hearing was coming from across the room.

His eyes worked the room quickly, darting from face to face, scanning the wide eyes until they finally landed on the body huddled on it's side in the far corner, pained screams coming from the person partially hidden by one curled arm.

"Get everyone out of here," He ordered one of the other PTs as he jogged past, before falling to his knees before his patient.

"Kate. Kate, can you hear me?"

"He's coming. He's coming."

"No." His hands hovered out in front of him, unsure. "He's not. No one's coming. It was just an accident. You're safe, Kate. You're safe."

The screams had faded to hiccupped sobs as he knelt in front of her, and then to quiet sniffles. When she still failed to move and he settled down to sit next to her, a hesitant hand coming out to stroke her hair, murmuring an apology and reassurance when her entire body stiffened under his gentle touch.

She wouldn't meet anyone's eye, even his as he walked her out to the waiting room. She shook her head, cheeks stained with embarrassment at his offer to drive her home and he turned with a sigh as she disappeared through the doors, head hanging, shoulders slumped.

"Denise?" He asked as he rounded the desk, settling to lean in his normal spot, arms crossed loosely over his chest as he looked at the now grey-haired woman. "What do you know about PTSD?"

"Enough to know your girl is going to need a lot of work."

"She's not my girl," he muttered back weakly.

"You sure about that? I've seen the way she looks at you." Denise shot back with a pointed stare. "You get the story out of her yet?"

"Nope, not yet." He turned his head to gaze at the empty doorway and Denise let out a tsk, muttering under her breath as she turned back to her paperwork.

"You two. Idiots, the both of you, I swear. I could cut the tension with a knife the first time you laid eyes on each other."

* * *

"It was him."

Her voice was low, the words barely above a whisper. It was the first thing she had said all session, her eyes finally lifting to meet his from where they had hung since she had followed him back from the waiting room.

"The man who shot me, it was the same man who stabbed me ten years ago, who killed my mother."

He couldn't stop his sharp intake of breath. "You found him."

She nodded, but then let out a self-deprecating laugh, her gaze lifting to a spot on the ceiling, her bad arm lying limply in her lap. "I couldn't describe him to a sketch artist after the alley. I always told myself it was just because of the trauma and I would recognize him when I saw him but I didn't."

Castle settled back to sit cross legged on the floor in front of of her, waiting patiently for her to continue. "This guy, an enforcer for the Westies, Jack Coonan was murdered."

"Westies? Irish mafia, right?"

Kate hummed out an affirmative, her eyes roaming the room, observing the other patients and PTs, ever the cop. His hand reached out, settling on top of hers, his thumb caressing her soft skin gently. "We went to talk to his brother, _Dick, _this do-gooder philanthropist."

Castle had to hold back his snort of childish laughter at the way she said his name, the malice dripping from her voice.

"God, Castle. I thought I would recognize him. I didn't but he knew me. He knew me from the second I set foot into his office. He must have been having so much fun, messing with the detective who was too stupid to even recognize her own assailant."

"Kate…"

"I know, it's not my fault. It was years ago, it was dark, I was facing away from his most of the time, the only time I ever got a glimpse of his face I was lying on the ground, blood pouring from my back."

His thumb stilled, bile surging from this stomach at the image.

"At least that's what my therapist keeps telling me," she continued.

"Your therapist is right," he murmured.

She hummed again, a sound like she wanted to believe him. "Anyway, turns out he wasn't a good guy as much as an assassin for hire. Someone hired him to kill my mother, Castle and I just happened to be there, to get in the way."

"How'd you figure it out?"

She let out another self-deprecating chuckle and her eyes flickered down to their hands before finally meeting his. "Something just clicked. We were in the precinct, I had just shaken his hand, thanked him for his help and he was walking away from me, then he turned to say something. He had this smirk on his face and suddenly I was back there in that alley. I pulled my gun, told him to freeze, but instead he took the gun from a uniform's hip. I hesitated, I didn't want to kill him, I wanted answers and he shot me. I got off one round of my own as I went down. Hit him in the thigh. It was enough to take him down though. My captain went to see him in the hospital and he sang like a bird in exchange for a deal."

She fell silent again, but her fingers threaded through his, holding as tight as the could with their limited strength.

"I got them, Rick. The man who stabbed me, who killed my mother, and the man who ordered it to happen."

"That's amazing, Kate," the words stumbled out and they were not nearly enough. "I am so proud of you."

But she looked anything but proud; she looked lost. "Ten years of my life, Rick. Two men are living their lives in prison but at what cost? My mom is still dead, and I am so broken. I have PTSD and an arm that I will probably never be able to use again. I'm not going to be able to go back to being a cop, am I?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "Probably not."

She nodded at the inevitable answer, her words pleading. "What am I going to do now?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "But I do know whatever it is, it's going to be remarkable."

"Rick…" Her eyes filled with apprehension, but after ten years of missed moments he couldn't let even another day slip past.

"You're not broken. You're the strongest, most frustratingly amazing person I've ever met, Katherine Beckett. I knew it from the first time I saw you, the first time you cussed me out."

She bit out a laugh, and the shy smile adorning her face gave him the courage to continue.

"I've made a lot of stupid decisions in this life, and I don't know a lot of things, but there are two things I do know. I know that whatever you decide to do, you'll be extraordinary, and I know that starting tomorrow you need to find another physical therapist."

Her brow furrowed in question, but before she could ask, he took her in his arms and answered with a kiss. At first, everything about her was stiff, but then her lips parted under his. When she melted against him, arms and hands and mouth a little desperate, the fire that had been smoldering for ten years ignited into a full blaze.

The room had fallen silent around them save for Denise's wolf whistle from the doorway. Rick's answering wide grin finally broke their kiss, leaving Kate laughing into his mouth.

His hand cupped the back of her neck as their foreheads fell together and the rest of the world melted away.

"You're not going to run this time, are you?"

She shook her head slowly, never losing contact as she brushed another kiss against his lips.

"Good. I'd hate to give Denise the satisfaction of being allowed to tackle you."

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all of you who read this and encouraged me to continue. Thank you for all of your kind reviews, I hope you enjoyed this little tale! Thank you as always to Kate Christie for the advice, edits, and verbal sparring over phrasing and dialogue choice. Cheers!


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